I've had my head underwater before- sank before- but the water has never felt quite like this. Like a never-ending pressure that forces you to wonder if you'll ever get the chance to know what it feels like to have air in your lungs again. I've never known the cruel and chill touch of the water against your skin, or the darkness that accompanies it during the night. My eyes lock and focus on the sheer stream of moonlight that is left in my vision, giving myself hope that there is air and warmth past the bubbles and water imprisoning me from every side. I muster the strength that I can to pull against the band strapped against my chest, knowing that it must be laughing at me and my growing sense of defeat when it doesn't release its hold on me.

With every jerk against the car belt, my lungs burn more and more, begging me to stop- pleading for me to just give it up and surrender to the waters around me. Unfortunately, fate doesn't seem to know how damn stubborn I am as I continue to pull, and strain, and fight for my freedom again. My throat aches with a cry of fear because, despite the obstinance coursing through my veins, the pressure around me grows heavier, and my airways sting with fire as I unwillingly swallow back a mouthful of water. A sense of pain appears, intensifying with every movement that I make, and my panic dulls, replaced with a calming fear that maybe there is no getting out of this- maybe fate is a whole hell of a lot stronger than I anticipated it to be.

Trying my best to distract myself, a set of brown, deep-set eyes fills my mind, and I admire the bronze flecks of those familiar irises, gripping onto the hope that I'll see them again. Against my will, my senses begin to falter, my mind growing too weak to hold onto the image of Brodie's warm eyes as the light of the moon fades into the darkness building around me.

The shadows continue to swarm me until eventually everything just goes black...

"Lani. Please. Dammit, come on!" A distant voice commands me, and suddenly the sensation of a release in my chest has me pulling myself further out of the dark that still holds its tethers on me.

My body and head are spinning, but I can feel the surface of the ground against my side as the voice around me becomes louder, more distinct. "You're okay. Breathe Lani. Alright?"

And I do just as he says, wanting to sob with relief that I can feel the air again and the soaked earth beneath me. A numbing haze still hovers over me, flashes of red and white daring me to pull myself out of the fog of my mind. My body shivers as the chill gusts of wind slither against my skin, but a warmth radiates against my back and I try to calm my uneven and labored breathing as I settle against it, feeling so grateful to know that I'm not alone.

"Just breathe," the voice speaks again, and my body calms further.

"Brodie?" I rasp out, not entirely sure how I found the oxygen and strength to say his name, but needing to be sure that I'm not dreaming all of this.

Please, let this be real. Let him be real.

"Shhh," he answers, his touch running through my hair and coaxing me out of the state of fright still blanketed over me. And all I want to do is cry tears of joy because hearing that familiar voice brings the peace of home, and I relax further against his gentle hold, knowing that I'm safe. "Help is coming. Just focus on breathing. Breathe."

"Who do you think you are, island girl? Thinking you're allowed to scare me like that."

My ears register the break in his voice despite the playfulness of the words he just spoke, and my heart aches for the sob he's trying so hard to hold back. Brodie was just as scared as me. My limbs fight so hard to touch him and let him know that I'm here-at least in this moment- but I don't have an ounce of strength in me to give him anything but a weak smile.

I feel him shift behind me, my eyes growing heavy again with every passing second and my heart beating faster because I'm afraid to give in to that calm blackness again.

"I love you," Brodie says softly somewhere behind me as if he knows just how badly I needed to hear him say that.

Aloha au iā 'oe, I so badly want to say back to him, but I know that my weak body won't dare let me speak or utter another word.

Shouts echo from the distance and strobes of crimson and white illuminate the black of the night, revealing the lines of trees, thickets of bushes, and grassy overgrowths surrounding us. For a moment, I'm certain that I can make out the wailing of a siren, but once more my breathing becomes unsteady, my chest heaving and my lungs stinging with a cry for more oxygen. Sooner than I would want it to, the commotion around me fades into a dull hum, my ears only registering the ragged wheezing barely escaping the back of my throat. The faint light around me begins to lose its brightness and knowing that I'm left with no other choice, I imagine those comforting brown eyes as my mind slips back into that silent darkness again.

༄༄༄

Murmurs and the thrum of voices tug me out of my deep sleep, my body gradually gaining its awareness back as the conversation going on around me becomes more distinct. I wiggle my fingers and toes in an effort to pull myself out of the haze of sleep still attempting to hold me hostage, registering the click of a machine nearby and the hiss of air whispering into my ears.

"From what we can tell from the CT scan, she's doing just fine," a woman informs, and I continue to listen, using her voice as an anchor to pull myself back into physical awareness. "It didn't show any signs of swelling or fluid around her lungs, and she just has a few minor fractures on her ribs but those should heal okay on their own."

"You have no clue how good that is to hear," I hear my Momma sigh with relief, a bitter-sweet break in her voice as she speaks those words.

"Is she breathing better on her own?" Dad questions, a great sense of worry lingering in his tone, and my eyes become less heavy. "How much longer will she have to stay on the mask?"

"Her O2 stats are looking a lot better so I'm going to have her taken off the mask this morning and I'll have the nurse monitor her throughout the day and see how she does without it. If her vitals continue to look good, then we can keep the mask off."

"Thank God," he breaths out heavily. "We can't thank you enough for everything you and the nurses have done."

"Of course, but I'm pretty sure most of the thanks can go to that young man. What he did before the first responders got there saved her life."

There's a calm, serene silence in the room for a moment before the woman speaks up again. "She's doing good," she assures my parents, "A stubborn fighter for sure. You guys and her just get some rest, alright? And hopefully, the next time you see me, I'll be able to say that she's good to finally go home."

"Thank you, Dr. Raleigh. Thank you so much."

A few beats pass before I hear a door click shut. My body finally grants my eyes permission to flutter open, the brightness of the lights in the hospital room blinding me as I wait for my sight to adjust to my surroundings.

"Momma! Daddy!" I hear a small voice squeal from my bedside as my limbs stretch out beneath the white linen of the bedsheets covering me. "She's awake! Look! Lelani's finally waking up."

My lips can't help but tug upward at the sweet excitement in Aiden's voice, and I turn to where I hear him, conjuring up the best smile I can manage as I focus on his dimpled face, black curls, and sparkling eyes.

"Lela," my Momma gasps, popping up at my side in an instant. Her hands caress my cheeks softly. "Oh, honey. I was so worried. I was so worried that-"

My hand finds her's, squeezing it as my weak voice manages to console her and rasps out, "I'm okay."

"I know," she smiles, squeezing back as a tear of joy falls down her face. And as if she's trying to remind herself, she whispers low, "I know you are."

I feel the mattress compress as Aiden grunts and climbs up beside me, gawking down at me and the object I can feel held against my face. "Why does she look like that one villain dude in that Batman movie me and Daddy watched?"

I giggle, refusing to accept the fact that my little brother just had the nerve to compare me to Bane of all freaking people right now. His toothless grin warms my spirits as I look at him. "Look who's talking Gumby," I tease back, a slight croak still in my voice.

"Leave her alone," my Momma reprimands him, standing from the bed and yanking the wiggly 6-year-old up with her as she makes her way towards the door. "Let's go for a bit and let your sister get some rest. Matt, do you want me to bring you back anything from the cafeteria?"

My stare falls directly onto my Dad, his eyes tired and defeat clear across his facial features. "No, I think I'm okay for now."

"Alright," she nods, looking back at me one last time and I can tell by the glaze over her eyes that she's afraid to look away.

"I'm okay," I promise.

She releases some of the tension in her shoulders before grinning back, "I love you, sweetie."

"Love you, Momma," I say, forcing a smile on my face until she and Aiden slip out of the room.

Footsteps shuffle against the floor and even though my sights are still locked on the closed door, I feel the bed shift as my Dad sits down next to me. As badly as my mind convinces me to look his way, for some reason I can't find it in me to do so.

"I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am, Lela." I don't speak, words failing me as I soak in everything that I can seem to remember. "There's nothing I can say to make anything better," I hear his voice grow weak, something I've only heard a handful of times in the lifetime of knowing him. "I thought we were going to lose you."

"I'm fine," I softly bite out, trying my best to hold it together; fighting not to lose myself in the anger, confusion, sadness, fear, and relief of my foggy recollections.

"You're not," he mutters back. "And that's mostly my fault, and I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, and I know that doesn't fix anything but I am."

I can feel his eyes on me as his hand finds mine, squeezing tightly before I hear the sob that comes after. A sob of relief, and anger, shame, and disappointment.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't expect that of you, but please know how much I love you, Lelani. Please know that I'm sorry for not being willing to hear you out, and for lying and hiding things from you. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I know now that what I did was selfish. You deserve the right to make your own decisions, and it wasn't fair that I made them for you."

My gaze skims down my body, taking in the white and navy hospital gown covering my torso and the IV line placed on the inside of my arm that stretches to the machine beside the bed. My fingers travel to my face, touching the oxygen mask still covering my nose and mouth and I sit quiet for the next few moments, trying to wrap my head around how I ended up here.

You were driving and it was raining when the car flipped on it's side. You thought it would eventually stop turning, but it never did. You heard the metal crunch as it continued to roll, felt the way the harsh movements jerked your body back and forth. And then there was a final jolt before you felt the first chill stream hit your skin, filling the car until nothing but water surrounded you. You fought to escape until you couldn't anymore. And then there was pressure, release, and then that voice. His voice.

"Where is he?" I gasp out in panic, yanking off the oxygen mask as I recall the doctor's words only moments ago.

I'm pretty sure most of the thanks can go to that young man. What he did before the first responders got there saved her life.

"Where is he Dad?!" I hurry out again, feeling my throat ache with fear and anticipation as I wait for his answer. My eyes are burning with tears as I finally lock my stare with his, "He's okay isn't he? Where is he? Please, Dad. Where's Brodie?"

"Honey, breathe. Relax," he says gently, trying to calm my restless body as I begin to raise my back off of the bed. "You've got to be easy on yourself and you need to keep your mask on until the nurse comes and removes it for you."

"I don't want it on. Answer me, dammit!" I cry, dread filling my bones and making them ache. "Where is he?"

A knock sounds against the door, and I watch my Dad's stare become vacant as it opens. His green eyes turn soft and he nods for me to look and see for myself.

"Did you miss me or something, wild thing?"

"Oh my god," I whimper, blinking away my tears as Brodie smirks at me from the doorway. His face is covered in swollen scratches and purple-blue bruises as he steps into the room, and I can tell he tries to hide his weakened limp as he walks towards me. "Brodie. I thought- you- are you okay?"

Pain sears against my ribs as I thoughtlessly go to get up again, needing to touch him and really be sure that he's okay, but he hurries to my side and stops me. "Take it easy, Lani, alright?" His hand travels to my face, smoothing his fingers against my dampened skin and wiping away any remaining tears. "I'm okay. I promise, I'm alright."

"Y-your face," I say, a slight tremble in my voice as my fingertips graze the fresh wounds carefully.

"I know," he snorts, "Not nearly as good looking as your's, is it?"

My Dad stands, clearing his throat before he announces, "I'm going to give you two some time, alright? Lela, please, if you start having trouble breathing, put that mask back on, okay?"

"I know, Dad," my voice clips because all I want is to be alone with Brodie right now.

I can't take my eyes off of him, watching his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a gulp and says, "Thank you, sir."

"No," he shakes his head in response. "Thank you, Dawson. I couldn't tell you that enough." Brodie nods, and my Dad glances back at the two of us briefly and for a moment I think he's about to speak, but he only throws a faint smile our way before excusing himself out of the room.

Brown eyes meet mine, and I want to melt in the comfort of them, my nerves still wrecked with the brief thought of something bad happening to him.

"You scared me," I shakily admit, my fingers trembling slightly.

He must notice my uneasiness because he brings his free hand over mine, brushing gentle and sweet strokes against my skin. Baring his bright teeth, he gives me that boyish smile of his and chuckles, "I scared you?!"

"Yes," I fire back matter of factly, "you did."

"Well, you scared me a whole hell of a lot more," he says with a lighthearted laugh before his eyes really take me in and his expression turns solemn. His palm slips past my jaw, trailing back to the nape of my neck and holding me a bit firmer. A gloss begins to fill his eyes and I reach for his face, loving the way he leans into my hold and soaks in the feeling of my touch.

"What is it?" I press gently, knowing that he's holding back from saying something.

Tears begin to fall from his eyes as soon as the question leaves my mouth, but he swallows back the rest of his cry as he admits, "I thought- I thought that I was going to lose you."

"Well, I'm here now aren't I?" I grin, trying my best to keep myself from crying with him.

"You're here," he repeats, his lips tugging upward slightly.

"Because of you," I remind him.

He cuts his eyes to the floor, humble and wary to accept the recognition for what he did for me. "I didn't think I was going to be able to get you out. I can't stop thinking about it; thinking about what would have happened if I didn't."

"Brodie, stop," I beg. "You can't think like that-"

"I'm trying not to. I'm trying to just appreciate having you right here with me, but I was terrified, Lani. I was so fucking scared."

"I'm safe. I'm safe because of you and I can't thank you enough for that. I don't want you to keep thinking about the what ifs."

He stares into my eyes so intently as he says softly, "I love you so much, Lani, and I don't want you to thank me for shit. I would have given my life if it meant saving your's, and I would do it a million times over if I had to."

"I heard you, you know? I heard you when you said that to me after you brought me back." He smiles, and immediately I know how much it meant for him to hear that. "You have no idea how much that meant to me, Brodie."

"And you have no idea how much that small little smile of your's meant to me. It gave me a glimmer of hope that you really were going to be okay."

"How long did it take for you to know that I was alright?" I ask, still unaware how much time has passed since the wreck.

"Not until the next morning," he begins explaining. "That was single handily the worst night of my life. They kept me overnight, took an X-ray to make sure I didn't break anything from the fall, and wouldn't let me leave until they knew my vitals were steady. Delk and Murphy stayed at my side the whole time, and Alana communicated with them to let us know you were okay."

"H-how long has it been?"

"Three days," he answers, "I came to see you as soon as they discharged me the next day but you've been knocked out from pain killers and I know your body needed rest so I would just sit with you."

I nod as I take all of the information in, thankful to finally piece some of the puzzle together. "That night, I found out that my Dad was planning to ship you off. I was coming to see you and-"

"I know," he interrupts, cutting me short as an unreadable expression consumes his face. "He- umm- he told me everything."

"S-so you two have talked?" I ask apprehensively because his face is impossible to read right now.

"We've talked," he nods, tightening his grip on my hand.

"And he's going to fix everything. He's going to keep you here now, right?"

"Lani," he sighs.

"No," I shake my head, refusing to believe that after everything that's happened he's still having to leave me. "No, you're staying here, Brodie. There's no way he's still making you go. You're not leaving me. I'm not letting that happen."

"Baby, he tried," and my stomach feels sick from what he's about to tell me. "He tried, but all the paperwork was already processed. My flights have already been arranged and everything."

I pull out of his hold, feeling angry tears begin to sting the back of my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, Brodie? I could have done something. I could have stopped this from happening-"

"I'm sorry," he hushes out, "I was trying to figure out a plan and buy myself some time to fix things, but I got back to work after that weekend and had the orders served to me. I was coming to talk to you that night, and then-"

The wreck.

I stay quiet for a long time before my voice trembles with a cry, "When? When are you flying out?"

"Saturday-"

"This is bullshit," I choke out, tears falling from my eyes relentlessly because this means we only have two days left together. "I hate him."

"You don't mean that. He thought he was doing what was right at the time. He feels awful-"

"He should feel fucking awful," I sob. "He can't do this. He can't take you away from me."